A detachment from Prisma City arrived—a small force of about fifteen warriors. Dasatama brought only a select few, prioritizing swift movement through a spatial teleportation portal.

Dasatama bounded forward the moment they materialised outside the main gates of the Golden Crane Academy. Accompanied by Commander Yarko, the two masters vaulted across the rooftop tiles, moving with extreme speed. The warriors handpicked by Dasatama trailed closely behind them.

Dasatama knew his younger brother, Jiro, was likely engaged in a desperate clash. Traversing the vast distance from Prisma City to Linggar Emas would normally take at least a day on foot. Recognizing the urgency, Dasatama had signaled Mayor Adante to initiate immediate spatial teleportation.

Maintaining the portal required immense energy, limiting the number of combatants that could pass through at once; thus, Dasatama took only fifteen elite fighters. Reaching the rooftops, Dasatama looked down to find a raging inferno of warfare.

Fire and devastation scorched every corner of the compound, with violent duels detonating across the estate. Amidst the chaos, he spotted a colossal collision of power—a duel at its absolute climax between Warrior Jiro and Drakos.

Dasatama noted instantly that Drakos had deployed his Demon Transformation, confirming beyond a shadow of a doubt his allegiance to the dark forces of the Demon Lord.

Elsewhere, Lao had exerted his full strength to vanquish Bezman. Even though Bezman had empowered himself through a demonic transformation, the grueling conditioning Lao had undergone allowed him to break through his opponent's defenses. Exhausted, Lao continued to fend off the remaining waves of dark operatives.

Nearby, Gayatri subdued Rasu, though the effort drained a significant portion of her internal energy. Simultaneously, Alicia leveraged her maximum velocity to strike down Lunox, shattering the dark warrior's enchanted fans. The Sky Squad members were thoroughly spent, having pushed their physical vessels to the absolute brink.

Aaman likewise panted with exhaustion, holding off an endless stream of dark operatives alongside rogue Golden Crane disciples.

The arrival of reinforcements turned the tide instantly.

Just as a massive shockwave exploded between Warrior Jiro and Drakos, Dasatama descended, landing directly between the two combatants. The elite forces accompanying him immediately dispersed to reinforce the Sky Squad. Commander Yarko called out to Commander Gonan, who had been straining to shield the young recruits throughout the battle.

"Enough, Drakos! Surrender! Continuing this madness serves no purpose—you will only bring absolute ruin upon the Golden Crane Academy!" Dasatama's thunderous voice echoed across the courtyard. Who on the continent did not know the legendary God of War? Hearing the shout, even Drakos checked his momentum following his collision with Jiro.

Jiro took a heavy breath, visibly fatigued. Drakos regulated his breathing as dark magic continued to swirl around his mutated frame. His gaze drifted toward the lifeless body of his son, Sengturi. Surrender? Everything was lost; his legacy was completely destroyed. What reason remained to go on, only to live as a branded traitor? A profound sorrow washed over Drakos's heart.

Driven by blind ambition, he had ultimately brought about the total destruction of his own academy.

"There is no turning back, Dasatama!" Drakos declared, his eyes hollow. "The era of righteous struggle has long passed; raw power is all that guarantees survival! This world is rotten to its core—the Mondu operate in every shadow, waiting for the current order to collapse!" He locked eyes with Dasatama, his expression laid bare with complete resignation.

"That is enough, Drakos!" Dasatama pleaded. He still remembered their youth, when they fought side-by-side alongside other comrades to eradicate evil. Yet his former friend had strayed too far, sinking irreversibly into servitude under the Demon Lord.

"There is no path back, Dasatama!" Drakos roared. Pushing his core to the limit, dark magic erupted from his vessel in a final, desperate surge—a final testament to his commitment as a Mondu. The corrupt energy expanded aggressively, enveloping his body in a dense, towering shroud.

Dasatama braced his stance, realizing words could no longer reach his old friend. He unsheathed his blade.

From a distance, Warrior Jiro prepared to step in, but Dasatama raised his right hand, motioning for him to hold back. Respecting the gesture, Jiro stood down, leaving his older brother—the leader of the Continental Martial Arts Association—to handle Drakos personally.

A pure, overwhelming aura radiated from Dasatama's frame. The young members of the Sky Squad watched in awe as the living legend prepared for combat—the God of War venerated by martial artists across the world, the ultimate model of martial excellence.

An explosive wave of pressure detonated as Drakos lunged straight toward Dasatama.

"HAAAAAA!" Drakos roared, charging with every drop of his remaining strength.

Dasatama planted his lead foot, his fresh, unblemished internal aura surging forth. Moving at a velocity that far surpassed Drakos's attack trajectory, he met the incoming strike head-on. A blinding flash of light consumed the courtyard as their energies collided, forcing onlookers to shield their eyes.

In a fraction of a second, Dasatama glided past Drakos. His blade was run clean through Drakos's chest, the tip protruding from his back. Drakos's counter-strike had been checked bare-handed by Dasatama, leaving only residual shockwaves dispersing into the air.

Drakos's strength rapidly faded. His mutated features dissolved as he reverted to his human form, the Demon Transformation forced to its limit after his extended duel with Warrior Jiro. Deep down, he knew he could never match Dasatama; since their youth, he had always walked in the God of War's shadow.

"Forgive me... my friend," Drakos whispered softly, slumping against Dasatama's shoulder while the blade remained embedded in his chest.

Friend. Indeed—in their youth, they had stood side-by-side as sworn brothers, purging evil and suppressing dark factions that threatened continental peace. Drakos had chosen not to fall by Jiro's hand, seeking instead to end his life at the hands of the God of War—a final, tragic warning to the world never to follow in his footsteps.

Memories of their shared past flashed through Dasatama's mind. Is this truly the end you chose, Drakos?

A gentle breeze swept across the ruined compound as the battle drew to a final close. Bodies of Golden Crane disciples and dark operatives lay scattered across the courtyard. The Sky Squad had fought valiantly, marking their debut as novice squad members with a monumental victory for the righteous alliance.

Dasatama withdrew his blade, lowering Drakos's body gently to the earth. He maintained respect for his former comrade; despite his fallen path, Drakos had once stood for good. Dasatama left judgment to the heavens, offering forgiveness as a fellow mortal.

Seeing their grandmaster fall, the surviving Golden Crane disciples cast aside their weapons and surrendered unconditionally.

The remaining dark operatives scattered into the night, while those left behind were captured or subdued. The Sky Squad members had sustained only minor injuries, which were promptly tended to by attending healing mages. Dasatama's arrival had proved flawless, securing the area at the crucial moment.

"Where is Aji?" Lao asked, scanning the area as he regrouped with his comrades. Aji was nowhere to be seen.

"Should we go reinforce him? He was holding off two high-ranking dark commanders back at the forge office to let us escape with Nasura," Barsha noted, glancing toward the far wall where Nasura sat cowering in the corner.

"I'm right here. I've returned," Aji called out, vaulting down from the courtyard wall to join the group. He was completely uninjured, bringing a wave of relief to Barsha, who realized he had successfully neutralized both Tamura and Magot.

Yet, as Aji rejoined the squad, a select few harbored a quiet realization: Warrior Jiro, Alicia, Aaman, and Rakuta. Each of them knew a fraction of the truth—that the young man standing before them, shrouded in mystery, was far more than he appeared.